A/N: Many thanks for taking the time to read and review. You guys are great.

You all know they're not my characters, right? Just having some fun.

Here we go...

This was a bad idea, Natasha couldn't help but think. A truly horrible idea. Had she flipped the switch from Just Natasha to The Black Widow? She didn't remember doing it, but sometimes it was simply second nature. Was she really trying to seduce America's golden boy?

Her head felt fuzzy. Either from the several vodka's (she never really counted them) she'd consumed at Stark's party or from the bone-melting foot massage, she wasn't quite sure. All she did know was, despite how warm his body felt leaning against hers, and despite how blue his eyes were or how inviting his lips looked, kissing Steve Rogers was on her list of things to never do again. Not ever.

Once had been enough, thank you very much. Especially considering his lips had been as soft as they looked and tasted damn near as sweet as one of his smiles. And the fact that she could almost spin sonnets – an Ode to the Magnificence of Steve Roger's mouth – after one (however brief) kiss, let her know that any more than that would be much more than she could handle. And Natasha could handle anything.

He was honor and truth and purity and all things right in the world. She was deception and secrecy and lies and everything dark in the world. She could only taint him by daring to taste his lips once more. But, oh, how she longed to.

When his lips brushed hers, slightly parted on his last word, she forgot all her reservations. Forgot every single reason why she shouldn't be kissing him. Then their breath mingled and his tongue crept past the safety of his lips to slide across hers and she lost it.

Her hands moved to grasp his face, maneuvering his head for a better angle while her fingers slipped into his hair. She made an embarrassingly girlish sound in the back of her throat, but when he groaned, deep and heavy, into her mouth, his hand clenching almost painfully at her waist, she couldn't find the will to care.

She couldn't breathe. He tasted like freedom, and his tongue, his warm breaths mixing with hers, set something loose inside her, something that had been caged for far too long. He paused long enough to breathe out her name on a sigh and her head spun. Closer. She needed him closer.

Natasha shifted her legs, slipping one on either side of his, best as her dress would allow, moaning again when the bulk of his weight fell against her. His eyes lifted to hers, as if in apology, but she pulled his mouth back to hers. Perhaps he was as gone as she was, drunk from the kiss, from the feeling of lips and tongues moving in tandem, and the sensuality of his bulky body pressing hers into the sofa because she felt all of him, every hard line, every taut muscle and especially what was pressing against her leg. Despite him trying to hold part of his weight off her, he couldn't hide that.

Then something happened.

Her senses went on alert and she lifted her leg up high and around Steve, ripping the seam of her dress in the process. Good, she thought, easier access. Her fingers found the sheath, the smooth metal heated from being pressed against her thigh. Natasha broke their kiss long enough to let the blade fly, true and straight, until it lodged itself in the twelfth board to her left, between the coffee table and the arm chair.

Something hissed and scratched against the floor, disappearing into Steve's kitchen.

His voice was breathy, deeper than she'd ever heard it when he asked, "Did you just try to kill my cat?"

"I can't believe I missed," she answered, oxygen returning to her brain and helping to clear her muddled thoughts.

He sat up, his hair ruffled, then stood to retrieve her knife from the floor board. "I can't believe you almost killed my cat." A little tuft of hair was stuck on the end and he plucked it off, letting it fall to the floor.

She stood too, straightening her dress into something resembling a gown. The rip in the side didn't help, and she gave up. "When the hell did you get a cat?"

God, her lips felt swollen. What the hell had she been thinking? She had to get out of here. Like, stat. Now. Why was she here? This was such a bad idea. Steve's kiss was still fresh on her tongue, but no matter how good it'd been, she knew it was time to go. If it happened again, there'd be no way she could stop. Probably not even for an alien invasion. Her face felt hot. So did everything else.

"It's a rescue," Steve answered, giving the feline a gentle stroke down its back. It arched towards the touch and Natasha felt a shiver of desire run up her spine. She really needed to leave. "Found it in the alley six blocks from here."

"Bringing home strays now, Rogers?" She made her way over to the counter where the cat was perched. She'd leave in just a second. The cat hissed and pawed at her as she reached toward it; she laughed and scratched it on the chin anyway. "Tony know about this?"

He smirked and she couldn't help but think he looked sexy as hell, hair all mussed from her fingers, face flushed, lips plumped, shirt rumpled. Who was she kidding? She was ready to pick up exactly where they'd left off and not stop until dawn, or maybe never. "JARVIS does."

"Wouldn't have pegged you for a cat person."

He shrugged, moving to lean against the counter next to her, their hips touching. "Saw it in a movie once." He peeked at her through his lashes, keeping his face turned away slightly. "The therapist said something along the lines of, if you can take care of a pet, you just might be ready for a relationship."

And that was probably her cue to leave. She went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water instead, taking down about half before tossing it to Steve. He tossed her the knife, and she sheathed it in one swift movement. Noting the cats one eye and maimed front leg she said, "Looks like you're doing a piss-poor job."

"He was like that when I found him." Steve tried to snag her wrist as she walked past, but she smoothly side-stepped him, heading back towards his living area. "Are you always armed?" he asked.

She smirked. "If I can help it." She reached for the door handle and paused.

She didn't know why she paused. Escaping his company, his close proximity, seemed like the smart thing to do, the only thing to do. But forcing herself to do that proved to be a difficult feat. She silently cursed whatever tormenting emotions were swirling around inside her. This was exactly why kissing Steve Rogers was the gravest of mistakes. He'd compromise her, she knew he would. Her jaw tightened as did her resolve, and she grabbed the knob, wrenching open the door.

Or at least she tried to.

She forgot how fast he could be when he wanted to.

Steve's body was warm, pressed against hers. His arms blocking her in on either side as they held the door shut. "Why are you running?"

"Let me go, Steve," she said in a low tone, calm and even. It was a testament to her training that her voice didn't waver. Her eyes were closed, knowing there was no way to shield everything. "Call Sharon."

Natasha knew he had called her; they'd gone out on exactly two dates, and now Sharon was dating one of her coworkers in the CIA. She suggested her anyway, knowing she was precisely who Steve needed. Strong, smart, sexy, and most of all not tragically and emotionally handicapped when it came to matters of the heart.

She felt him sigh heavily. "She's not who I want?"

"She's who you need," she defended, finally opening her eyes, even if it was only to stare at the door. "Who you deserve."

"Look at me, Natasha." Despite the fact that it made her look like a petulant child, she shook her head no. Steve cursed quietly and spun her by her elbow anyway, locking her against the door by her shoulders. She was forced to meet his eyes then, angry and half desperate to get away. "Don't I get a say in this?" he seethed.

She'd seen him like this before, an odd sense of déja vu settled over her, but this was different. So much so. "Sometimes what you want and what you need aren't one in the same."

He gave her a look then, one that told her many things and had her expecting some sort of awe-inspiring speech to come from his lips at any moment. When all he said was, "What are you so afraid of?" she knew why he'd pulled that face.

Shoulders squared, her hard eyes met his soft stare. "I'm not afraid." But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. Half of her life had been lived in fear, and though everyone mistakenly thought she feared nothing, the truth of the matter was she feared almost everything. The other half of her life had been built on deception, so she stood her ground, despite the lie tasting awful on her tongue. "I'm not afraid of you."

His hands slid from her shoulders, and didn't stop until they were wrapped gently around her wrists. "Then what's holding you back? Don't lie and say that was just a kiss."

It was so much more than just a kiss. "It was. Just. A. Kiss." He eyed her, then looked down at where her fingers had unthinkingly twined with his, then met her stare again. She jerked her hands out of his. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know what I want," he said instead, moving close enough that she could feel the heat of his body all around hers. Her head was already shaking when he whispered, "I'm looking at what I want."

All of a sudden, the room felt hot. She felt hot, like she'd suffocate. She couldn't get enough air. Was this what claustrophobia felt like? Hyperventilating? She didn't know what it was, but the air in the room surrounding her was smothering her. She put both hands on Steve's chest and shoved, and though she knew she hardly had the strength to move him if he didn't want to, he stepped back to give her the space she needed. She paced the room, moving to stand in front of the window so she could see the wide expanse of night sky just out of her reach.

"You don't know me," she mouthed, not quite able to make out his expression reflecting in the window. He was just a man-shaped blob. It made saying what she needed to say a little easier.

"I want to."

"No you don't. Not really." she crossed her arms over her chest, curling in on herself as much physically as she was trying to emotionally. "I'm a murderer. A liar. A thief. An assassin. I've seduced to kill and will so again. I'm a shape-shifting person who's whatever she needs to be to complete an assignment. I've killed hundreds, maybe thousands – though I've lost count, I still see their faces – a lot of which were innocents. There is nothing worthy in me of you." Her eyes closed of their own accord and she breathed out a heavy sigh. "Trained, tainted and forged by the most vile of people, I am The Black Widow."

His reflection became clearer as he stepped closer, still not crowding her as he was before. "No you're not. You're Natasha. Beautiful, fearless, heroic. Deadly, sure. " His voice didn't waver, as if he believed every word he was saying. She took a shuddering breath. "You're a woman who will likely spend the the rest of her life trying to right a wrong that isn't your fault."

Her eyes were stinging and when she opened them again, the world outside looked blurry. Natasha couldn't be sure if she was on the verge of crying because she wanted to believe him, or because he was deluded enough to think it was true. "There's nothing good in me."

"Stop it."

"You deserve more than what I can give you, which is nothing."

"Natasha, stop it."

"You're righteous and good and honorable and trustworthy. I'm none of those things."

"Shut up," he said, voice raised enough that she flinched. "Just..." he made an effort to lower his voice. "What is wrong with you? Stop being so self deprecating, it's so unlike you. Who're you to decide?"

She smiled then, and turned to face him. "Just goes to show how well you know me. No one can punish me, torture me, hurt me, as much as I am able to myself. I'm the best and I've perfected the art of being self deprecating."

Steve squeezed his eyes shut as if aggravated. "Nat – Natasha, I... Your past doesn't define you. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for. Sure, you've done awful things, terrible things, but that's not who you are. Not on the inside. If you'd just – "

"No, Steve. You're Captain America, symbol of all things right in this world, all the things worth fighting for. You're an amazing person. Good to the core. You deserve someone who's wholly good, too, who doesn't struggle with each and every decision she makes, wondering if it's right or wrong because she doesn't know the difference, not really. You're too good for me."

Perhaps it was his next words that crumbled her will. Perhaps it was just a matter of time before she lost the battle anyway. Either way, when he said. "I'm just a man, Natasha, just a man," her knees felt weak, and it was only his hands reaching out to catch her that kept her from crumbling to the floor. "And you're so very wrong about yourself. You do know the difference, I see you... I just... see you. You're who I want."

And then he kissed her and her eyes felt wet, wetter than she could ever remember them feeling. And she kissed him back because how could she not? She didn't know what love was, not in actuality. In theory she'd always thought it was for children. But whatever warmth that was blooming in her chest, in her stomach, in her toes, everywhere, whatever that was was not for children. It was only for Steve. And she didn't know how to let that go. She didn't know how to walk away from that.

So she didn't. She stayed. And when his tongue swept over her bottom lip and he pulled back to meet her eyes all she could say was, "I don't know how to do this. I've never..."

"Me either," he answered softly, knocking his forehead gently against hers. "But I think we're smart enough, between the two of us, to figure it out. Together."

And though she still had her doubts, she thought maybe, just maybe, he was right.

A/N: Ugh. I have no words after writing this. It took me a long time to get the ending of this chapter how I wanted it, and even now, after such a long delay, I'm not quite sure I'm happy with it. Please take the time to drop a line and tell me what you think, love it or hate it, it is what it is. Hopefully it's not horrible.

I think one more chapter, maybe two, will get me to where I want to officially finish, but we'll see how much trouble these two give me.

Thanks for reading! HUGS!